


High Grade

by Crescent_Moon_Demon



Category: Transformers Generation One, Transformers: Victory
Genre: Crushes, Drinking, M/M, Messing Around, Oneshot, Smut, Sticky, TF: Victory, severe dubcon, tampered drink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-03
Updated: 2014-12-03
Packaged: 2018-02-27 23:01:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2709860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crescent_Moon_Demon/pseuds/Crescent_Moon_Demon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was all Killbison's fault, and Deathsaurus was going to have himself a little "revenge" on behalf of it. HellbatxLeozack; Mech/Mech, slight Crack, Sticky</p>
            </blockquote>





	High Grade

 

**Originally posted on FF.net**

 

At first, Deathsaurus had been horrified.

 

One of his “tough, murderous and twisted” soldiers in..... love?

 

Well, okay, if the dragon-former had to pick which of his mechs would have been most likely to act like a silly, little Cybertronian his first choice would have most definitely been Hellbat. Insane and slimy though the spy may be, he was also very foolish, go-lucky, and one might even say soft-sparked to boot. The Destron commander had it on record that there was some footage as well of the blue mech skipping -skipping- down the halls.....

 

So no one was really surprised when it turned out that Hellbat had a crush.

 

It was the fact that _Leozack_ was his crush that really shocked them all. When Killbison had ran into the room, shouting nonsense and acting like an utter basket-case, Deathsaurus was ready to smack the idiot into the floor. Then the datapads were being yanked out of subspace and Killbison was shoving them and their frightening contents into everyone's face.

 

It seemed maybe he was giving his soldiers too much free time, Deathsaurus mused. If the files upon files of poorly drawn pictures and further journal entries entailing the number of sparklings they'd have, the places they'd live and other scary simulations Hellbat had, concerning himself and Leozack, was proof enough.

 

And maybe he was bored a little himself when he decided that they should hold an obligatory “celebration” of sorts in the throne room, as a means of congratulating everyone on their lucky (fluke) retrieval of the largest stock of energy that they had seen in weeks. Especially when he slipped that extra little “something something” into Leozack's share.

 

Ah, well. If anything happened, there'd only be one witness to his ill deeds and he knew Drillhorn would have to be immensely stupid before he told anyone what he saw.

 

**xxXxXxx**

 

“Stop pushing!”

 

“Weeeeeee!”

 

“Slaggit- those are my balls! Give them back!”

 

“Na-na-na-na-na.”

 

“Why I oughtta-”

 

“MORE HIGHGRADE!!”

 

Deathsaurus sat on his throne, nursing what must have been his tenth cube of high-grade; one fist propping up his chin as he gazed out at his fearsome crew.... all of whom were outrageously drunk and running about like a bunch of fools. The dinoforce ambled about, crashing into various things and each other, cackling and giggling madly, and still drinking, despite the fact that a few of them were starting to fall to the floor, not able to get up any more. Killbison was chasing Jallguar around the room now, intent on retrieving some neon-coloured rubber balls of his, after the black mech had stolen them in retaliation of the tank constantly harassing him, trying to get him to agree to an interface. Guyhawk was doing body shots off of the unconscious Kakuryu, grumbling slurred challenges to the uninterested Drillhorn, who sat at the table nearby, slowing drinking from his cube and reading from a datapad. Even his own breastanimals were participating in the party, somewhat. Tigerbreast was slurping loudly from his cube on the floor, watching the crowd idly, while Eaglebreast sat perched on his shoulder plating; occasionally nuzzling the Destron and dipping forwards to sample some of Deathsaurus' high-grade.

 

Hellbat had been dancing about earlier, singing songs in loud, and off-key successions (obviously shined to malfunction) and had still been knocking back the high-grade, but now he was nowhere to be seen. Realizing this suddenly, the dragon-former straightened up in his seat, sending Eaglebreast clattering to the floor with an indignant squawk. Quickly, Deathsaurus scanned his soldiers occupying the room, noticing as well that Leozack had also seemed to have disappeared. This was indeed curious, because the commander knew he had added enough drugs to Leozack's cubes to incapacitate the mech, if not make it incredibly difficult for him to process things. And Leozack had drunk at least three cubes....

 

Just as Deathsaurus was beginning to get annoyed (he had wanted some entertainment, slaggit!), his wandering optics caught Drillhorn also stiffening in his seat, slowly casting searching glances around his shoulder plating. Confused why the driller would be doing that, the larger Destron was soon to hear a strange, mumbling sound; almost indiscernible under the partying, but steadily growing louder.

 

“S-slagging.... slagging i-idiot.....,” Guyhawk slurred, slowly rising to his pedes, “W-why sh-shure..... hic.... yo-you.....”

 

“Ahhhh!”

 

The moan cut across the room, ignored at first, but it was quickly followed by a second, wheezing one. “N-nooooo! O-oh, pl-pleeeeeeeez..... s-st-ahh! Ah! AH! AH!”

 

Immediately, everyone froze. Even the inebriated dinoforce members (those still online) stopped what they were doing, looking around with their optics flared and frightened puzzlement painted across their faceplates. Deathsaurus watched with detached amusement as one by one, his soldiers began to take count of who was still within sight.

 

“P-please....,” came the moan again, strained; almost as if the speaker was close to sobbing. “T-too..... aah! T-too much....s-stop! St-stop! Ooooh! N-nooo..... no, pl-please, mmmm, ooh....ohh! Oah! Ah! AH! AHH!”

 

Slowly, Deathsaurus rose to his pedes, quietly walking down the podium and stepping around his stunned soldiers, his optics on full alert and his sensors turned up to their highest frequency. With everyone stuck in place, soft, consistent thumping could be heard now; something wet giving a generous squelch as a rhythmic, metallic tapping joined in. The moaning turned into whimpers and keens of desperation, becoming more and more breathless with each passing astrosecond as the clanging grew louder.

 

“I-is..... is that l-lieutenant commander?,” Jallguar needlessly asked, his question causing everyone to flinch.

 

Tigerbreast prowled forwards, sniffing at part of a computer terminal. Grabbing one end of it, Deathsaurus yanked the station aside, just enough to reveal the pair hidden around its massive side. Someone screamed behind him -possibly Goryuu- but it wasn't enough to interrupt the two currently fragging away in the throne room. Leozack, with his aft high in the air and his chin almost scraping the floor, flailed uselessly; his optics dim and unfocused, no doubt due to his charged state, as he keened and moaned wantonly, his fingers clawing the ground as he apparently attempted to crawl away. Unfortunately, the one hunkered over his trembling wings refused to relinquish the tight grip he had on on the teal Destron's waist, and indeed, seemed quite content where he was at that moment in time.

 

“H-HELLBAT?!,” various breastforce members broke out in horrified sync, the drunken haze banished from their processors completely as they watched the idiotic spy plunge deep into their superior's valve, drawing a hiccuping cry of rapture from Leozack's vocalizer.

 

The blue jet growled mindlessly, burying his face deep into the lieutenant commander's mane as he picked up his pace; Leozack a blubbering, whining puddle of needy metal as he spiralled quickly towards overload. Deathsaurus merely shuttered his optics at the scene before him, his face blank, even as Leozack gave a desperate, hot moan like some filthy pleasure 'bot, his lubricants splashing out between each of Hellbat's vicious thrusts and pooling on the floor beneath their rocking frames. He almost missed the way a few of his soldiers slapped servos over their mouths and olfactory sensors at the sound; one or two others (like Killbison) merely twitching as their optics flared lustfully.

 

“Hellbat.....,” the dragon-former called.

 

The spy pressed the spent Leozack into the floor further, snapping his hips forward ruthlessly now, as he worked to send himself into overload. The teal mech whimpered weakly at the change of angle, his optics flickering and his fingers curling into trembling fists as he fought to remain online. Exhaustion though, and high-grade, made that a challenge.

 

Deathsaurus frowned as he was ignored. “Hellbat.”

 

Hellbat growled again as he thrust wildly into his complacent partner, his gravelly growls turning into purrs as he pressed his hips tight along Leozack's aft; wings shivering and a drained, little whimper escaping his second-in-command as the other Destron shot his transfluid deep inside the wet valve. Gurgling contently, Hellbat leaned forwards, nuzzling the back of Leozack's helm, while his servos stroked all over the now-unconscious mech's frame.

 

“HELLBAT!!!,” Deathsaurus roared, finally having lost his patience.

 

The blue jet turned his helm slowly, glaring up at the dragon-former and tightening his arms around the lieutenant commander's frame. Normally, this might infuriate the Destron commander, but considering Hellbat's narrowed optics were lit with a dim, purple glow (evidence of his highly over-charged state), Deathsaurus wasn't about to waste his anger on the drunk.

 

“You made a mess of my floor,” the larger mech stated flatly, one claw pointing at the small pool of lubricant, now joined by a slow trickle of transfluids, slicking the floor beneath Hellbat and Leozack. The mindless Destron turned his helm, glancing at the fluids, before turning around and nuzzling the lieutenant commander again; his hips starting a slow roll into the valve he was still buried deep within.

 

“Out!,” Deathsaurus commanded, gesturing to the door. He scowled as Hellbat snarled at him. “Before I take your toy away from you! And I expect you to clean this place up tomorrow -hangover or not.”

 

The primitive-responding mech seemed to pout behind his mask, before he pulled out of Leozack with a grumpy sigh, scooping the other jet up in his arms and walking shamelessly -spike still hanging out and fluids coating his pelvic plating- for the door. Everyone wisely stepped back and gave Hellbat plenty of room as he left. Satisfied (though one would have to seriously ponder why. After all, this was perhaps the strangest thing to happen in the throne room) Deathsaurus returned to his seat, plopping down with a relieved sigh and grabbing another cube.

 

“Well, c'mon on then. Get back to partying,” he said, waving a servo flippantly as he drank deeply from his cube. His soldiers glanced at each other, shooting a few, fervent looks to the spot where Hellbat and Leozack had been interfacing just moments before. But not wanting to anger their commander, the mechs were quick to get themselves back into the party -if a bit more awkward about it than previously.

 

They were quick to pretend as if nothing had happened, Deathsaurus noticed as he reached for yet another cube. From the corner of his vision, he saw that Drillhorn was approaching him, and held his high-grade to his lip components, waiting for whatever the driller was about to say.

 

“You do realize that you've made quite a.... spectacle, don't you, commander?,” the purple mech quietly asked, coming to a pause at the dragon-former's throne.

 

Deathsaurus shrugged, taking a drink. “Somehow, I doubt that really concerns me.”

 

Drillhorn frowned a little at the nonchalant response. “But if Leozack realizes-”

 

“I will be immensely surprised if that fool manages to put two and two together come tomorrow morning,” the larger Destron interrupted quickly. “Besides, I dare say my conniving second is more likely to be preoccupied about the mech he'll be waking up next to, rather than how quickly he got over-charged tonight.”

 

The driller decided not to comment on that, shaking his helm exasperatedly, and imagining the processor-ache he'd be dealing with himself come dawn.

* * *

**C.M.D: Alright, I have to say one thing, to make sure everyone understands where I stand and why this is labelled as dubcon. The reason this is not getting a rape label is because 1) Deathsaurus tampered with Leozack's drink, yes, but never approached him in a sexual manner. 2) Leozack was not aware of the tampering and neither was Hellbat. 3) Hellbat was shit-faced drunk when he 'faced with Leozack, meaning both didn't know about the drug prior and both weren't in a conscious state of mind when the sex happened.  
Had anything been slightly different, then yes, I agree this would be rape and label it as such. Because of the circumstances, this dances a very dangerous line on consenual and not, thus why I'm calling it dubcon. But don't think for a second that means Leozack is going to be happy in the morning that he 'faced with _Hellbat_ of all people last night.**


End file.
